Pumpkin, Pond, Rain

George is always with us.

We took a Friday off and drove to Fall City Farm about 45 minutes east of Seattle to a pumpkin patch.

Winter has not yet descended and the temperatures, warmish still, were mild, though it was drizzling. We picked out our pumpkins, paid at the cute little shop, and bought two cups of hot cider.

We sipped our cider, looking at three large rabbits in a hutch, and about 15 chickens, all different varieties, in a coop. I spotted a red and golden tree, glorious fall in the Pacific Northwest, when the green algae caught my eye.

“A little lake,” I said, walking over, preparing my camera.

My partner, without skipping a beat, said, “A pond.” And then, “Do you want to swim . . . in a pond . . . in the rain”?

My heart skipped. She knows me so well.

---

so much depends

upon

a mossed

lake

speck’d with rain

water

beside the cooped

chickens

— with apologies to w.c.williams

Yeah, that had to happen.

---

If you like my writing, please consider supporting my efforts with a paid subscription.

I am a certified book editor and writing coach, with a 30 year history of teaching writing in college. If you’re in the market for an experienced editor, contact me at The Writing Prof Editorial Services.

I am currently revising my memoir and will soon resume querying to seek traditional publication. Agents/editors, if you’re interested, I’m waiting for your call.

I write about:

• writing, literature, and the writing life

• writing process

• memoir craft

• mental illness - major depressive disorder, suicide, borderline personality disorder, narcissistic personality disorder

• sailing

• alternative lifestyles - polyamory and kink

Comments are appreciated. Let me know what you think. Thank you for being here.

Just keep writing!